Miracle on 12th Street
by Ceggle143
Summary: Parallel story to "Believe" though this can stand alone. Tony and Ziva spend Christmas Eve together, not expecting the sudden (and not at all predicted) snow storm that leaves Ziva stranded at Tony's. And how does Abby have anything to do with their Christmas? Rated M for potential sexy-time, and for mentions/descriptions of rape/abuse. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a parallel story with my other NCIS fic, _Believe._ You don't have to read them together, or the other first, but ya know, it's fun. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of NCIS, the story, the characters, ditto ditto etc etc. Though I totally wish I did.  
**

Ziva stood in front of the long mirror attached to the back of her bedroom door. She was not quite sure why she cared what she wore tonight. It was only Christmas Eve, and she and Tony, and potentially Tony's father were just having some Italian take out while they watched some movies. And yet she found herself thinking that the comfortable, worn- in pair of cargo pants and plain red tee shirt were wrong somehow.

Moving back to her closet she shoved each clothing item aside, studying each as if looking for a secret hidden within the fabric. Ziva paused at a small black dress, wondering if Tony would think it odd if she showed up wearing such a formal outfit. Pulling at the bottom of her shirt, she yanked it over her head and stripped off the cargo pants. In her bra and panties she perused the closet, her previous outfit in a pile on the floor. With a sigh Ziva pulled on a form-fitting pair of blue jeans and a simple short-sleeved white shirt. She loosed her Star of David necklace from under her shirt and slipped on a pair of Keds over her socked feet. Swiping on some mascara, a skill learned for the art of seduction while still with Mossad, she shrugged at her reflection, grabbed the bottle of wine that sat waiting on the kitchen counter and sauntered out the door.

**~*~NCIS~*~NCIS~*~**

Tony was straightening his apartment in preparation for dinner that evening. He had been hopeful for a night alone with Ziva, but his father had already called to confirm that he would still be coming. Tony should have known; after all, he was buying the dinner. Expecting Ziva and Tony Sr. at any moment, Tony splashed on a touch of his favorite cologne and slipped on a pair of jeans and a deep red polo. It had taken him a lot of time before his shower to decide exactly what he wanted to wear. It needed to be something attractive and alluring, but not overwhelming. Tony had long ago given up on denying his feelings for his partner, but was still unsure as to how he should go about pursuing them. He found it ironic, really. He, Tony DiNozzo, could not get a woman. Well, it wasn't that he _couldn't_ get Ziva…or, perhaps it was. Either way, he wanted to look his best tonight without being obvious or appearing desperate. Now where was that bottle of wine…


	2. Chapter 2

Tony heard a knock at the door, and made to look at the clock. Exactly five pm. Ziva could be so much like Gibbs at times it made him shudder. Straightening his hair in the reflection of the microwave door, Tony yelled towards the door, "It's open!"

Ziva swung the door open as she walked in, bottle of wine held in her left hand. "Merry Christmas."

Tony grinned at the gorgeous ex-Massod agent as she glided in the room, most likely unaware of how graceful and amazing she looked. "Happy Crismahannakwanzika!"

"What is that?" Ziva shut the door behind her and looked at him with the confused look she reserved for all-things American.

"Just a generic, made-up term to include a bunch of the holidays celebrated in the U.S. It's supposed to be a joke so you don't offend anyone who may not celebrate Christmas or what-have-you." Tony felt he needed to give her that one, since even Gibbs probably wouldn't know that reference.

Ziva nodded slowly as if absorbing the information for future reference. Crossing through the living room and into the kitchen, she held out the bottle of wine, "An excellent Shiraz from Israel from an up-and-coming vineyard." She glanced around, "When is Tony Sr. getting here?"

Tony shrugged as he set the bottle on the counter next to his own bottle of wine. "Good question."

The two fell silent, wondering what to say or do next. Ziva stared down at the floor as Tony looked around the apartment for inspiration.

"So…wanna go ahead and start a movie? I'm sure my dad won't mind." He motioned over to the big screen TV.

"Sure. Did you have something in mind?"

"Well, I thought with Christmas and all, we could either do a theme, or mix up some Christmas movies with some sort-of Christmas movies."

"Sort-of Christmas movies?"

"Ya know, the ones that take place at Christmas but the plot doesn't actually involve Christmas, like _You've Got Mail,_ or the first _Harry Potter_ movie."

"Ah. I am fine with whatever." Ziva shrugged lightly.

Tony walked over to his binders full of DVDs and began to flip through them, considering particular ones every once in a while. As he decided on a movie, Ziva sat on the far right end of the couch, her legs curled up under her in an attempt to relax and get comfortable.

Popping in a DVD, Tony headed back towards the kitchen, talking over his shoulder, "You'll like this one. Very traditional Christmas movie, like _It's a Wonderful Life_." Ziva had ended up loving the story after they had all watched it in MTAC that one night. He'd found her enthusiasm and joy at something so trivial and just-for-fun adorable. "_Miracle on 34__th__ Street._ The original, with Maureen O'Hara." Tony pulled out two glasses. "Would you like a cocktail before our wine or just some wine?"

Ziva studied the two bottles. "Perhaps a cocktail for now. It is probably best to save the wine for dinner, for when your father arrives."

Tony nodded, and opened the cabinet where he kept his liquor. "Any requests?" He started to push bottles around, as if trying to take inventory of what he had.

"Gin and tonic if you have it, please."

"How classy. And yes, I do." Tony pulled out the gin and the tonic, followed by some Tom Collins mix for himself. He left the bottles on his kitchen counter and grabbed the menu for the Italian restaurant as he left the kitchen.

"I was thinking we could order a bit of everything and share family style. Anything you want in particular?" He passed off the menu as he handed her the gin and tonic, while sipping his own Tom Collins.

Flipping through the menu Ziva took a sip of her own drink. "I am up for anything, really."

"Anything, huh?" Tony wagged his eyebrows at her a few times, a suggestive smirk on his face.

Ziva tossed a pillow at him without responding, the opening credits ending on the movie.

**~*~*~NCIS~*~*~NCIS~*~*~**

"Maureen O'Hara is an amazing woman," Tony sighed in reverence at the screen. "Incredibly hot, too."

"She has great passion," Ziva nodded, watching the red-head with interest.

"Fire-y, passionate women are the hottest women." He was starting a bit early with the obvious flirting. Perhaps he added too much gin in his Tom Collins. Oh well, it was a holiday, after all. Maybe the alcohol would start to have an effect on her, as well.

"Yes, we are."

Yes, the alcohol was definitely having an effect on her.

Tony glanced down at his watch. "It's almost six-thirty. Do you think we should go ahead and order?"

"I think so. Maybe he will get here when the food arrives."

Agreeing with Ziva, Tony pulled out his phone and called his order in to the Italian restaurant for delivery. He had just hung up after receiving the total price and an estimate of a 45 minute wait, when his phone rang.

"It's dad." Tony shook his head at the phone's screen. "Hi, Dad." He listened for a moment, rolling his eyes. "Alright. Bye."

"Is he not coming?" Ziva asked, though she already knew the answer.

"Course not. I should know better by now."

Ziva could tell he was more upset about it than he was letting on, but refrained from commenting. It was Tony's business – not her's.

"Want another drink?" Tony stood as he finished off the Tom Collins.

Her glass was still half full, but without really considering it, she downed the rest of the gin and tonic and nodded, holding her glass out to her partner. "Yes. Another gin and tonic would be great, Tony."

Tony accepted the glass, looking down at her smile appreciatively. Ziva understood how he was feeling without having to ask. Another of the traits she had in common with Gibbs. But this one…this one he didn't mind so much.

"Coming right up."

**For some reason my muses are being stubborn. I'm having more ideas for the sequel that will combine both this fic and my Gabby fic, Believe, than I am for this one. Maybe I should get myself a Tom Collins...**


	3. Chapter 3

Several fast food containers laid half-empty on the coffee table in Tony's living room, _Home Alone_ playing on the television.

"So this…child…he is all alone while these burglars are trying to break in to the house?" Ziva was sipping a glass of the Shiraz, and spooning bites of tiramisu into her mouth as she studied the film.

"Yeah, and he's trying to protect the house." Tony bit into one of the cannolis he had ordered for the three of them, now at least glad that there would be leftovers without his father there.

"How does one _forget_ a child?" Her eyes never left the screen, still sipping back more wine.

"Too many people in the house…chaos. It's possible, though rare. And makes the parents look really bad." Tony picked up his own glass of the Shiraz, swallowing back much of its contents in a few gulps.

"Do not gulp. Savor." Ziva swished her own glass around, the light shining into the wine, accentuating its color.

Tony shrugged and poured more into his glass. "Tastes good either way." He stood, placing some tops back on the containers that still had leftovers. Crushing the few empty containers, he gathered all of them in his arms. "I'm thinking we should save that other bottle of wine for next time. You still need to be able to drive home. And you're a hella scary driver as it is."

"I am not that bad." She protested, drinking the last of the wine in her glass.

Tony snorted as he put the leftovers away, trashing the crushed empty containers. He glanced out the window and paused, "Um, Ziva…"

"Yes, Tony?"

"I don't think driving home will be an issue…" He pulled the blinds up on the window as Ziva stood in confusion and joined him in the kitchen. The window in his living room had been covered over with new curtains, blocking everything outside from their view.

"I did not think it snowed that much here in Virginia." Ziva studied the crazed flurry of snowflakes that raced towards the ground outside.

"It doesn't, really. Not this hard." Tony lowered the blinds and hurried to his front door, pulling a coat off the coat rack. "Come on! Let's go!"

"Go where?" She walked back into the living room, staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Outside, of course! It's snowing!" Tony was pulling on a pair of boots as he spoke, his voice muffled from the angle he was in as he yanked them on.

Ziva smiled at his childishness, and pulled her own shoes back on from where they had been placed at the end of the couch earlier.

The pair jogged down the stairs, laughing loudly as the feel of the liquor and wine continued to stream through them, keeping them warm as they burst out into the snow. Picking up a large chunk of snow Tony snuck up behind Ziva who was staring up at the night sky, taking in the falling snow.

"Snow attack!" Tony made to slam the snow under her coat, but Ziva ducked at the last moment, sending Tony flying from his own force. He yelled with surprise as he fell, unable to stop himself from hitting the ground.

Ziva giggled at him from where she stood. "Never sneak up on a Massod agent, Tony."

"Ex-Massod!" Tony smacked snow from his pants as he recovered from the fall and stood.

"There is no such thing." Ziva shook her head at him, and balled up some snow, aiming it so that it hit Tony in the head.

"Hitting me while I'm brushing snow off myself? Cheap trick, Zee-vah."

Without warning Tony charged at Ziva, making her run suddenly, both laughing freely as he yelled between laughs and gasps of breath, "Come back! I'll get you, my pretty! And your little…" Tony paused, stopping in place as he caught his breath. "You don't have a dog. I don't know what else I can get of your's!" Tony shouted in her direction, towards where she had continued to run so get further from Tony.

"You cannot have anything of mine, Tony. Because you will never catch me." Ziva's laugh made him grin widely. Her laugh was so sexy, so intoxicating.

Shaking himself out of his daydream, Tony ran after her, yelling at her wildly as they laughed, snow flinging all around them.

**I know, I know, it's super short. I'm going to write some more tonight, so hopefully I'll have another chapter out before tomorrow. **


	4. Chapter 4

**OMGoodness, two chapters in one night!And the longest chapter yet? Wow!  
**

**So obviously tonight's episode gave us some insight into some Christmas NCIS stuffs… such as Tony's dad making it for Christmas and Tony's goldfish named Kate. So I'm going to try to put some of that in the next couple of chapters. Unfortunately this story was already started so I couldn't incorporate the Wonderful Life tradition that they discussed. **

It wasn't until much later that Ziva realized her mistake. The only clothes she had with her were now entirely soaked through.

Tony was hanging his coat up when Ziva slipped off her shoes and realized just how wet she really was. "Tony…"

He glanced over at her, snorting lightly to himself. "You looked like a drowned rat."

She shot him a glare before laughing at the sight before her, "As do you, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony shrugged, "I have clothes in my room though. You still have to go back downstairs to your car and get out your emergency bag."

Ziva froze, "Actually…I do not have my emergency bag. I took it out this evening to wash everything in it. I did not think I would need it tonight."

"Ha! That's hysterical!" Tony laughed even louder though he was exhausted from their time in the snow.

"You could stop laughing at me and offer me something to wear." Ziva crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to shiver from the cold.

He realized how cold he was in his own clothes, also just as wet as she was, and wondered how badly she must be feeling it, so much smaller than he was and probably more used to heat than cold given her childhood and ancestry. "Alright, you can grab a shower first, and then I'll go after. I'll find you something you can borrow for the night, okay?"

She smiled at him, rubbing her arms to stay warm, "Thank you, Tony." Ziva sashayed into his room, "I'll try to leave you some hot water." She winked at him teasingly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Tony shook his head with a sigh and began to dig through his dresser.

**~*~*~NCIS~*~*~NCIS~*~*~**

Both Ziva and Tony had taken hot showers and were now changed into more comfortable clothes, Tony wearing boxers and a white tank top, and Ziva wearing a pair of Tony's plaid pajama pants and an baggy OSU tee shirt.

They had flipped on the news to watch the weather report, curious to see how much snow they were in for.

"I had not heard that it was supposed to snow." Ziva was curled up on the couch hugging a pillow to her stomach.

"Neither had I. I doubt the weatherman knew. Otherwise, there would have been a mad rush on all bread and dairy items in the state." Tony sat on the other end of the couch, trying to keep himself from glancing over at her shirt, knowing she wore nothing else underneath.

The weatherman was introduced just then, the anchor joking with him about the sudden appearance of snow and the lack of time for panic. He laughed in return at the anchor, "Yes, Jim, that's right. It seems like a Christmas miracle has befallen the DC area this year. Our meteorologists have been studying this pattern and it seems that more snow is on its way. Folks will most likely be home for at least the next couple of days as snow continues to pour down on us. So, settle in everyone and enjoy the snowy holiday. Wherever you are is where you'll be for a little while."

Tony flipped off the TV and leaned back against the couch. "Wow, didn't expect that. So I guess you're stuck here with me." He grinned at her with a devious smirk.

Ziva was not smiling though. Instead, she looked about a million miles away, staring towards the window in the kitchen.

"Zee-vaaah…" Tony drew out her name in a sing-song voice, trying to get her attention.

"Hm?" She jerked from her reverie and looked over at her partner. "Yes? Tony?"

"You okay?" Tony raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, yes, I am fine," she responded, hurriedly.

Tony studied her for a moment before nodding, "Okay. Just…lemme know if you need anything, alright? Do you want to take my bed? I can sleep on the couch."

Ziva shook her head adamantly, "No, no, the couch is fine. Thank you."

He stood slowly, waiting to see if she would change her mind. "Well…alright. But like I said…tell me if you need anything. I'll leave the bedroom door cracked." Tony disappeared momentarily, returning with a blanket and a pillow. "Here ya' go."

Ziva did not respond, but simply accepted the linens and nodded gently as he shuffled away into the bedroom. She watched the door close most of the way before peering around the room curiously. She needed something to take her mind off being stuck there. After the explosion at NCIS, when she had ended up stuck in an elevator with Tony, it had taken her a great deal of control not to make her anxiety at being trapped obvious to Tony.

She had never been claustrophobic. At least, not before Somalia. So many days and nights lying on a floor with a bag on her head. In small spaces she could still smell the linen of the bag, the staleness of the air around her, the dirt on the floor where she laid. So many times she was kicked roughly in the ribs, thrown into a wall, thrown to the floor, all while wearing the linen bag, surrounded in darkness and breathing the hot, suffocating air.

It had grown worse since the explosion at work. She needed to know that she could leave at any time – get up and walk out without any problem. Ziva shuddered at the idea of being held somewhere, no matter what the circumstance.

Browsing Tony's large built-in bookshelves, Ziva pulled a random book from the shelf, chuckling to herself as she realized it was Tim's book, _Deep Six._ It had been some time since Ziva had read through it, so she settled down on the couch leaving one lamp lit.

Tony was awoken to the sound of Ziva's voice. The clock glared at him as he realized that it was not yet three a.m. Ziva's voice grew louder as Tony stumbled from the bed, grabbing his Sig from under his pillow. Good thing Ziva had rubbed off on him…

Rushing through the cracked bedroom door, Tony held his gun out in front of him, expecting to find someone else in the room other than just Ziva.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he spotted Ziva twisting around on the couch, Tim's book on the floor next to her, partially open. She moaned in protest, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. Tony lowered his gun and placed it quietly on the end table.

"Ziva…" He whispered lightly, walking around the couch and sitting on the edge of the cushion at Ziva's knees. "Ziva." His voice grew louder as he carefully tried to nudge her awake. "It's a dream, wake up."

Ziva woke with a start, promptly taking an offensive position as she kneed Tony in the ribs.

**Oops, poor Tony. :) **


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm apparently on a roll tonight... this is what happens when I have a day off from work. **

Tony fell to the floor, holding his side.

"Oh! Tony!" She looked down at the man in pain, suddenly aware of her surroundings again. "I am so sorry!"

Tony's voice was small and slightly higher pitched than normal, "S'okay…"

Ziva helped Tony up and back onto the couch. The pain was beginning to subside as he settled next to her.

"Wanna talk about it?" Tony scooted up next to Ziva, trying to seem comforting without invading her personal space by hugging her close to him, no matter how badly he wanted to take her in his arms and hold her.

She sat frozen next to him.

"Zee?"

Ziva turned to stare at him for a moment and he could see a flash of fear in her eyes before she took on a stony expression that would rival Gibbs. "I am fine, Tony."

He cocked his head to the side a little bit, trying to study her demeanor, "I don't believe you."

She shrugged as if she didn't care that he didn't believe her. "I am. It is the truth."

"What were you dreaming about?" He was afraid of pushing too much, but knew he needed to try. There was so much about her that she'd never told him. So much that had happened to her while she was still Massod.

"I do not remember."

Tony knew she was lying. She was an excellent liar, but Tony knew her better than that. She had woken up clearly spooked and had only moments ago still felt that fear that she'd felt in the dream. Despite looking him in the eye as she spoke, he waited, not accepting her answer.

Ziva repeated herself when she saw that Tony continued to stare as if expecting her to relinquish her lie and tell him about her dream. About the horrific things that she still relived on so many nights. "I do not know."

Tony paused, contemplating what he was about to do. What the hell – she couldn't go anywhere right now anyway. "Why are you lying, Zee?"

She shifted away from him, putting more space between the two of them on the couch. "I am fine, Tony."

"No you're not. You've called me on my bullshit before, so now I'm calling you on your's. What's bothering you? What was the dream about?"

"It is none of your business." Ziva grew angry, wishing he would simply leave her alone so she could shove it out of her mind and forget about it all over again.

"The hell it isn't. You're my partner. We're part of a team, remember? The team takes care of each other. So let me take care of you." Tony placed his hand on her left thigh, hoping she would give in.

With a quick flourish, Ziva shoved his hand off her and stood, struggling to pull her shoes on in a hurry.

"Ziva, what are you doing? You can't drive in this."

"I do not intend to." She shook her head, trying to calculate just how far her apartment was from Tony's and how long it would take for her to get there. Twelfth street was at least six blocks from that store where she would pick up an occasional coffee. From there…

Her thoughts were broken by Tony, "Ziva, stay. I promise I'll leave you alone, alright? Just don't go out in this."

"I do not wish to bother you, Tony. You need your rest." Ziva grabbed her coat from the rack where it was drying.

Tony slid in front of her so that he stood in front of the door. "Stay." His voice was firm and commanding.

Ziva reached to pull out her gun but remembered it was next to where her clothes were drying. She whirled around quickly and headed over to fetch it. She could pick her clothes up later, but she would need her gun with her.

But by the time she had grabbed her gun and made her way back across the living room, Tony stood back in front of the door with his own Sig, gathered from the end table where he'd left it. "You really going to shoot me, Ziva?"

Tony pointed the gun at her.

"And will you shoot me, Tony?" Ziva's voice was sharp and accusatory.

"Just protecting myself." Tony shook his head. "Don't leave. You need sleep as badly as I do. And attempting to walk to your apartment? Not going to help. Put the gun down and you can go back to the couch or take my bed, whichever you want. And I'll leave you alone." He watched as she hesitated. "Trust me, Zee. This is me we're talking about. And if you really, really want to walk out that door, then fine. I won't stop you. But please, just reconsider. Think about how cold you were in what you wore earlier. Think those pajama pants are going to be any better? Cuz they won't."

She lowered her gun a little at a time, and then all at once let it fall to her side as she held onto it lightly with her right hand.

Tony also lowered his gun, setting it on a small table by the door where he usually put his mail and where his goldfish, Kate, resided in her bowl. "Do you want the couch or the bedroom?"

"The couch is fine. Thank you." Ziva's voice was quiet as she slipped back out of her coat and shoes.

He nodded, "My offer still stands. If you want to talk…" he motioned to his bedroom door, "it'll be cracked. Wake me up."

"I will not need to. But I will remember." Ziva sat back down on his couch as he vanished once more into the bedroom. She curled up into a tight ball and covered herself entirely with the thick blanket, burying her face into the pillow. It was several minutes before she let go, thinking that Tony was already back to sleep. Almost impossibly quiet, Ziva began to cry, the images of her dream flashing through her mind once more as she tried to forget, tried to purge the lingering feelings from her mind.

In the other room Tony lied in bed silently, breathing evenly as if asleep, but trying desperately not to cry as he heard the muffled sound of whimpering and sniffling coming from his couch.

**Reviews are love. :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**At the rate that I'm going (oh, muses...) I may just finish this tonight. I'm feelin' like two chapters or so should just about cover the rest. Reviews are amazing and encourage my muses, just btw. **

Ziva woke early that morning, her eyes dry and achy. Her dreams had continued throughout the night, but she had found that Tony had been featured in them as well, either joining in with the usual main characters' abuse, or watching in horror and disgust from the sidelines. She shook her head as if shaking the images from her mind's eye and stood, pulling the OSU shirt down from where it was riding up on her under the blanket. According to the clock on Tony's TV cable box, it was still 6am. Throwing the curtains back Ziva found that it was still snowing, just as predicted by the meteorologist. The ground had disappeared under a layer of white, Tony and Ziva's tracks from the previous night completely covered over and nowhere to be found. She had considered going for a run if the snow was still at the height it had been the previous night, but that was no longer an option.

Instead, she hunted in the kitchen for some coffee and began brewing a large pot for the two of them to share. Often she would begin her mornings with tea instead of coffee, but Tony did not seem the type to keep tea in his home.

The coffee pot began to gurgle as Ziva found herself picturing her dreams from the night before. They were always the same to some degree. She could clearly picture the room in which she had been kept in Somalia. The smell was overwhelming as it had been in real life. Often the sack would be placed back over her head and the dream would only consist of the feeling, the knowledge of what was happening to her. She could feel the hands of the guards and of her interrogators as they roughly groped her body. She could hear their crude language and deep, throaty laughter as they pleasured themselves with her body.

Other times she would see it all. The sack would be removed so that the guards could watch her as they took advantage of their hostage. Ziva would watch helplessly as the guards took their turns, cheering each other on with raucous laughter and cat calls. Everything she felt in the dreams seemed as real as they did when it had actually happened on that dirt floor in a bunker in Somalia. She could feel the floor beneath her as pain shot into her and up her stomach and back as each of the men thrust harder into her, getting off on her whimpers and cries. At the time she had zoned out, attempting to shut her mind off as it happened, but in the dreams she was unable to control what she felt, what she saw. She was unable to shut herself off as she had then. And each time she would wake, still feeling the pain and disgust and the shame. Each time she would wake shivering from the seeming reality of it all. And now, as she stood waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, she found herself hugging her arms around her body for comfort, and for warmth as if the room had suddenly lost all its heat.

"Ziva?" Tony approached her quietly, seeing how small and scared his partner looked.

She turned, startled, which surprised Tony, since she always knew when someone was near her.

Ziva went to speak, but found she had to clear her throat first before her voice would work, "Good morning, Tony."

"Merry Christmas." Tony's voice was soft and serious.

"Merry Christmas," she returned with a small, forced smile. "I started the coffee." She motioned down to the coffee pot in front of her, which was finishing up its last few spurts into the decanter.

"Thanks." Tony reached into a cupboard next to the fridge and pulled out two mugs. "Do you want any creamer or sugar?"

"No, I am fine with it plain, thank you."

The two prepared breakfast together awkwardly, saying only what was necessary to get breakfast made.

Tony tried to start up some small talk to put her at ease, "I don't typically have this much food in my house. I thought since Senior was coming…" He shrugged. "I doubted he would have the money to go out to eat."

Ziva nodded, noting how quiet he got at the mention of his father. She wanted to ask him what excuse Senior had given him, but did not feel like she could ask personal questions of him if she refused to answer personal questions of her own.

The eggs finished quickly as Ziva placed two pieces of toast on each of their plates. They sat on the couch silently, Tony turning on the television only to come across a replaying of the most recent _Miracle on 34__th__ Street_.

After several minutes, Ziva spoke up, "This is the same movie that we watched last night, is it not?"

"Yeah. Just a newer version. They find a different way of getting the judge to proclaim him Santa in this one. This one has the little girl who him the writing of 'In God We Trust' on the dollar bill, instead of the post office delivering a bunch of Santa letters to him."

"That is odd, given how much less people believe in God these days than in the days of the original film."

Tony agreed, "Maybe that's why they changed it. To remind people."

Ziva placed the last bit of her toast into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "It reminds people that there is some force out there that we cannot see. Something that makes things happen…guides us. Tells us what to do or not to do."

"It makes us want to believe." Tony leaned back into the couch, downing the last of his orange juice.

Both sat silently watching the rest of the movie. Just as the credits began to roll, Tony peered over at Ziva to find her asleep against the armrest of the couch. He looked her up and down, her body curled up in a ball as if she were trying to protect herself in her sleep. Tony lifted the blanket that remained strewn across the back of the sofa overtop of the sleeping woman. Letting her sleep he turned the volume down on the TV and settled in to watch _Meet Me in St. Louis, _which was just starting up on the continued Christmas marathon.

Judy Garland's character, Rose, was beginning to lead a dance at a party in her parlor when Ziva began to stir.

She moaned quietly in her sleep, then made noises of protestations, shoving her arm out in front of her as if pushing something away. Tony hit the 'mute' button on the remote and turned to watch Ziva, trying to figure out just what she was dreaming about before he woke her from the nightmare.

Ziva's voice was slurred slightly as she spoke out quietly in her sleep, "No. I do not know. Not..know…"

Somalia. It was the most likely thing she would be dreaming about in which she was being interrogated. Tony had suspected that she still carried vivid memories and feelings from the time she had been held hostage there, but he hadn't realized she was still dreaming about it this badly. It seemed so long ago now that all of it had happened, though it was still fresh in his mind. The expression of her face when she had discovered that he and Tim were there to rescue her. Were there to risk their lives for her. His heart had ached when she had told him that he should not have come, thinking that she hadn't wanted him there. But after he had come out from under the effects of the medicine, he'd realized what she really had meant by it. She had wanted to protect him. She hadn't wanted him to see her beaten and weak, vulnerable to torture. She was the invincible, tough-as-nails Massod member. Not a weak, scared little girl who wanted desperately for her father to rescue her.

On the opposite end of the couch Ziva began to thrash about in her sleep, the whimpering growing louder as she twisted around, the blanket wrapping itself around her further with each twist.

Tony scooted to the other end of the couch, careful this time to hold her arms and turn himself away from her legs as he woke her. "Ziva…Ziva!"

She woke with a start, yelling out, "No!" Ziva fought against him for a moment before his calming words alerted her to her surroundings.

Drained from the night before, Ziva gave up fighting him and instead fell against his chest, burying herself with exhaustion into a plain blue tee shirt that he had changed into while she had slept. Squeezing her eyes shut she attempted to force the tears away, still buried against Tony so that he could not see her.

"It's okay, Zee. It's just a dream." Tony wrapped his arms around her, pulling her whole body closer into him. Tony was surprised as a sudden sob came from the woman in his arms. Hugging her tighter, he buried his face into her hair, speaking softly to her, "It's alright. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

And for the first time, Ziva cried for herself, wrapped in Tony's arms.


	7. Chapter 7

The two remained hugging each other for another half an hour as Ziva's sobs quieted to occasional sniffles as tears ran down her cheeks and onto Tony's shirt. Ziva pulled away slowly, wiping her face lightly with her index finger. "I am sorry…" She motioned down to Tony's wet shirt.

"It's okay. It'll dry." Tony shrugged and pulled on the shirt so that it wouldn't stick to him.

"Thank you, Tony." Ziva was staring down into her lap.

"Sure. Anytime." Tony wanted her to talk but was afraid of pushing her again like he had the night before.

"It is always there. It never leaves me." She spoke so quietly that Tony had to lean over towards her to hear her clearly.

"Somalia?"

She nodded simply without responding.

"I didn't realize you still had nightmares about it." Tony admitted.

Ziva nodded again, "Not always. But sometimes, yes."

"Why last night?"

She shrugged a little as if she didn't know, but then replied, "The snow. I do not like to feel trapped."

Tony understood at once. The feeling of being held somewhere, being captive. "Reminds you of another time when you were forced to stay somewhere." It was less of a question, more of a statement.

"Yes."

They sat silently again for a moment, and Tony saw his opportunity. "What happens in the dreams?"

Ziva sighed deeply in attempt to calm herself before she spoke. "Everything that happened while I was there." She paused and he remained silent, waiting for her to continue. "The guards had free reign over me. As long as I was alive, they could do as they pleased. Many of the guards were occasional… visitors. But one guard in particular found me every night."

Tony watched her closely, seeing nervous movements for the first time as she fiddled with the edge of the blanket while she spoke, still looking down and away from him.

"For most of the time I was there, he raped me every day. Sometimes he kept the sack on my head, enjoying the terror that it provided me not to see my attacker. Other times he took it off to watch…or to force me to do other things." Ziva closed her eyes for a moment, taking another deep breath. "He disappeared one day and never returned. He must have been killed. But the new guard that was brought in was not much better. Instead he would find me sporadically, bringing others with him so that they could take turns cheering each other on. If he did not feel up to it on certain days, he would simply beat me, throw me into walls and kick me. Other times he would order me to perform sexual acts on guards or other prisoners as he watched."

She fell silent, studying the blanket as if preoccupied by its fabric and color.

Tony reached over and pulled her into him again, stroking her hair as he wrapped his arms around her, as if protecting her from her past. "I wish I had found you sooner." His own voice was raspy and filled with emotion as he struggled to keep from tearing up at her descriptions, swallowing down the nausea he felt.

"It is okay, Tony. Please do not blame yourself." Her reply was muffled, and he could tell she was crying again.

"I'm so sorry. I know…it's not my fault and apologizing…weakness. Whatever. I am. You have no idea how sorry I am." Tony mumbled into her hair, holding onto her tighter.

Ziva pulled away from him slightly, enough to look up at him. His eyes were rimmed red, though not as deeply as her own. He smiled sadly down at her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Suddenly, surprising them both, she lifted herself up and pressed her lips against his, placing her right hand at the back of his head and holding him there, savoring the softness of his lips as he returned her kiss.

Tony ended the kiss slowly, and pulled back from her. "Not like this, Zee."

She flushed red, something he had never witnessed before, and then looked back down at her lap. "I am sorry…I should not have…It will not happen again."

"No…no, Ziva, you don't get it." Tony rushed to explain. "I want this. I _really_ want this. But not because you need comforting, not because you're upset and exhausted. I want it to happen because _you _want it to happen too."

Her eyes flickered back up at him and she studied his face, searching for lies. Satisfied that it was truth, she nodded.

He smiled at her, then noticed how late in the afternoon it had gotten. "Are you hungry? I can heat up some of the leftovers and we can put in another movie or we can talk? Or we can just sit awkwardly together in silence as we eat?" Tony joked lightly.

"A movie is fine. And food would be lovely." Ziva smiled back at him as he stood to make them lunch.

It wasn't until almost an hour later that Ziva suddenly noticed how distant the memories of her nightmares seemed.


	8. Chapter 8

**This fic went by much faster than I thought it would. Look out for the sequel that encompasses both this story as well as my parallel fic, Believe. Coming soon to a near you! (Most likely very soon as I already have some written). Thanks for the support! Reviews = love!**

The remainder of Christmas Day was uneventful, but Ziva and Tony enjoyed the calm, comfortable relaxation. Tony put on a marathon of Christmas movies until both were tired of the holiday theme, and instead they began to watch classic Cary Grant movies. In the middle of _Arsenic and Old Lace_, Tony stood and stretched before he walked over to the large window in his living room.

"Snow has finally stopped," he rubbed the fog from the glass to get a better look. "Still piled up, but at least it'll have some time to start warming up and melting before we have to be back at work on Monday."

Ziva chuckled, "Assuming no one gets murdered between now and then."

"It's Christmas. Murderers need a holiday too." He protested. He glanced at the clock, "It's already past six. Think we can find something in there to make for dinner?"

"You have something that could be deemed food and not alcohol?"

He shrugged, "Maybe. We'll find out." Tony headed back towards the kitchen to browse the cupboards and fridge. "I hope there's something here. I doubt anyone's delivering in this weather."

Ziva joined him in his search, "I doubt anyone is even open in this weather." She let out a small cheer, "A box of instant mashed potatoes."

Tony glanced over at the box, "Oh, yeah. Forgot about those." He held up some packages. "I found some cold cuts and cheese. We could make sandwiches with a side of potatoes." Tony placed the food on the counter before he rummaged in the freezer. "Found a bag of steam broccoli. And ice cream for dessert."

"Sounds delicious." Ziva smiled at him as she ripped open the Instant Mashed Potatoes. "So…how does one make these?"

***~*~*NCIS*~*~*~NCIS~*~*~**

The meal was random, but enjoyable. They munched quietly, watching the end of the movie, the only sound that came from either was occasional laughter as the chaos played out with Grant and his family members.

Ziva licked the last of her ice cream off the spoon and placed the bowl and spoon down on the end table with a light clink. "That was very tasty."

"Not a bad Christmas Day feast." Tony agreed, leaning back comfortably into the cushions.

Ziva pulled her legs underneath her and leaned back as well, sighing with satisfaction. Tony scooted over to her and draped an arm over her shoulder. She snuggled closer into him, resting her head on his chest.

"So I take it we're not going to pretend that nothing happened? We're going to remember everything?" Tony asked cautiously, her head buried in his shirt.

"Perhaps some things need to be remembered." Ziva responded quietly.

He pulled back a little, placing his hand on her cheek as she looked up at him. Tentatively he brought his lips to hers, encouraged as she returned the kiss. He shifted on the couch so that he pulled her on top of him, wary of bringing back memories of Somalia if he pressed himself over her.

Ziva straddled him as she took a sitting stance, leaning down to kiss him as she pulled off the OSU shirt that she still wore from the night before. Tony's breath hitched as he got his first real view of Ziva wearing only her bra which had dried overnight. It was lacier than he had expected – black, which he knew having seen the dark line under her shirt the day before and while wearing his tee shirt, but covered in frills and lace which was surprising for Ziva.

He pulled his own shirt off, raising up off the couch slightly to get it over his head. Ziva ground her hips against his as he growled lowly at her, his arousal already beginning to show through his pants. Leaning back down, Ziva pushed her body tightly against his, kissing him gently. Tony reached around her and unsnapped the hook on her bra effortlessly, pulling the straps down and letting the bra fall to the floor. She groaned lustfully as he reached between them and took her breasts in his hands, massaging each smoothly with his fingers. Tony pushed her up and slipped down further under her to wrap his mouth over her breast, flicking his tongue around on her nipple as she moaned with pleasure above him. Ziva leaned herself over him, reveling in the feel of his mouth on her.

Tony suddenly lifted her up and crawled out from under her, "Come on." He pulled her from the couch and led her to his room.

"A twin bed, Tony?" Ziva raised her eyebrow at his bedroom.

He shrugged, "I'll explain later."

Ziva snorted lightly and crawled backwards on the bed, motioning for Tony to follow.

"Are you okay if we…I mean, if I…" he stuttered a bit moving his arms around to try to mimic him on top.

"It is okay, Tony." Ziva smiled at him, "I trust you."

He returned her smile, and climbed over her on the small bed, lowering over her to kiss down her bare stomach. Tony reached the pajama pants she wore and hooked his fingers in the waistband, pulling on it lightly as he slipped the pants down over her hips, allowing her to kick them off from there. She took her turn as she unbuttoned the jeans he was wearing, pulling on them as he shucked them off as well.

The two paused, taking in the scene before them as both lay in their underwear. Despite the undercover mission as husband and wife, Tony hadn't had a chance to really study her body, and he was enjoying memorizing every part of her.

His erection strained in his boxers as he pulled her panties down slowly, watching her reaction in case she became nervous. Instead she stared up at him, waiting for more, desire in her eyes. Tony pulled off his boxers and pressed himself against her, his cock twitching as she moaned deeply. He rubbed his head against her clit as he slid a finger into her, smiling at the pleasured gasp she let out.

"Tony…" Ziva's voice was rapsy and low, making Tony almost shudder at its sound.

He stroked her quickly as he removed his finger and thrust gingerly into her, filling her slowly. She moaned loudly, pushing her hips against him to fill her deeper. It was his turn to groan in pleasure as she gyrated her hips, causing friction against his cock as he slid halfway in and out of her. "Zee-vaah…" Tony sighed her name with a slight moan.

With a quick smile Ziva wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer to her and holding him there as he made quick, hard thrusts as she gasped loudly with pleasure, calling out his name. He slipped his hand in between their bodies as he thrust and lightly rubbed her clit with his thumb, keeping time with each movement.

Ziva whimpered his name at his first touch, but then steadily grew louder as she neared orgasm. Tony leaned down and kissed her deeply and forcefully, cutting off her screams in his desire to be closer to her. She moaned against his mouth, its tone growing higher-pitched and more shrill as her climax built rapidly. All at once she pulled away from Tony's kiss, unable to hold it in any longer as she fell over the brink, shuddering wildly as her orgasm flooded through her. She screamed his name in a low voice, engulfed by the ecstasy.

Her screams pushed Tony further towards his own climax, turned on by her lustful voice. He thrust faster and harder as she tightened around him, until he too edged over into his orgasm, surging into her as he called her name, blissfully shuddering with relief.

The pair laid closely together on the small bed, happily wrapped in each others' arms.

"I think I need a bigger bed now."

Ziva chuckled, "Oh, I dunno. It is nice…being this close."

Tony smile, but then laughed, "Until one of us falls off in the night that is."

"Then how about we go to the couch and watch a movie?" Ziva suggested, detangling herself from Tony's legs.

"Sure. And then if the movie gets boring I'm sure we can find…something else…to do." Tony grinned at her.

"Mmm…I like the way you think, Tony."

They each pulled on their underwear, the apartment a little chilly. "I see now you weren't lying when you said you're a screamer." Tony winked at her as he headed towards the living room, Ziva following behind.

"I am not afraid to enjoy physical pleasure. Many are ashamed; they should not be. It is natural." Ziva shrugged at him as she settled on the couch.

"And now it's my turn to like the way _you_ think." Tony chuckled as he grabbed his phone, checking for missed calls from their boss. "Got a text from Abby. Probably a 'Merry Christmas' message." He opened the text and read it, a confused look crossing his face.

"What does it say?" Ziva's curiosity was picked by his confusion.

"It says…'hope Santa brought you what you wanted. He sure came through for me.'" Tony looked over at Ziva. "Wonder what that's supposed to mean?"

"I suppose Abby had a good Christmas?" Ziva guessed. "Perhaps she got the gift she was hoping for?"

Tony placed his phone back on the end table. "I guess so. At least I'll be able to tell her on Monday that Santa gave me what I wanted too…" He smiled over at her and held out his arm.

"I think I can agree there. Even if Hanukkah is over." She slipped into his arms, glancing out the large bay window in the living room at the snow that had started to fall once more. This time she was not worried about being stuck in the apartment. That prospect suddenly seemed a lot more promising.


End file.
